


Flash

by INMH



Series: Merry Month of Masturbation Fills (2017) [19]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge 2017, Sexual Content, Strong Language, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-10-31 06:45:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10893906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: Charles is more devious than people give him credit for.





	Flash

At first, they come in quick, fleeting bursts of picture and sound.  
  
Erik thinks maybe he’s just repressed. He doesn’t indulge in affairs too regularly, and occasionally wakes up in the night to find himself hard in his pants. He’s becoming very familiar with the feel of his own hand which, though it may not be quite as exciting as another person’s company, is more convenient for him.  
  
So when he notices a pretty woman in the bar where he and Charles attempt to recruit that Logan fellow, dark-haired and long-legged, and has a sudden, fleeting (yet surprisingly detailed) image of them having sex on the table, Erik dismisses it as an aberrant sexual impulse and gives it no more thought.  
  
It’s not the last time, though. Far from it.  
  
They head out in search of another mutant, one in Chicago, and it’s raining. Erik’s leaning against a wall under the awning of a convenience store where Charles has popped in to get food. He’s not thinking of anything in particular, just letting his mind drift and his eyes wander.  
  
He notices, by chances, two men in an alleyway across the street. They’re only partially visible, and they’re not doing anything unusual or lascivious, just talking, and so it’s entirely unexpected when a picture fills Erik’s mind: Him, pinned against a wall, cheek scratching against the brick as one of the men grinds against his ass, and the other undoes his belt.  
  
It lasts for a few seconds, and it is the surprising amount of detail, the _vividness_ of the fantasy that reminds Erik fleetingly of the incident in the bar. The only difference now is that when the small snippet of a scene ends, Erik is half-hard in his pants. He adjusts his jacket as best he can so that when Charles exits the shop, cheery and unsuspecting, he won’t see.  
  
It happens several more times, and the gap between each incident seems to be growing shorter and shorter as the images become sharper and longer. They happen in public, mostly, with nameless strangers as his imaginary partners, and it’s all Erik can do not to alert Charles to what’s happening.  
  
Erik’s unsure if it’s part of this strange new phenomena or a result of it, but his dreams at night have become increasingly heated as well. And unlike in public, like in the diner earlier in the day where his image of the waitress sucking his cock left him so hard that he’d nearly gone into the bathroom to take care of himself, Erik can handle these dreams more efficiently.  
  
Sometimes he goes to the bathroom, mindful of the cleanup, and sometimes he wakes up from whatever fumbling, flesh-and-heat dream he’s just had so hard that he simply slides a hand into his underwear and tugs a few times to reach completion. The orgasms are better than he might have expected.  
  
Tonight, Erik adds a new aspect to his nightly routine: When all else is done and he’s ready for bed, he locks himself in the bathroom and masturbates.  
  
Twice.  
  
His reasoning is that if he gets his pleasure before bed, maybe the dreams won’t come. Maybe whatever latent desire for sex and stimulation his body seems to be begging for will be sated, and he’ll be able to sleep through the night.  
  
After the second orgasm, Erik is properly exhausted. _If this doesn’t end it,_ he thinks, _nothing will._  
  
(Except for, maybe, one thing that he knows is technically an option but he has no intention of resorting to just yet.)  
  
Erik sleeps.  
  
And something does, in fact, change.  
  
The dream comes: Someone is kneading his balls, their mouth on his cock, and even in the deep sleep he’s in Erik feels a small tingle of disappointment that his attempt at heading this off didn’t work. He sighs, he cants his hips up to be taken deeper into his partner’s throat, and the other (a man) moans.  
  
Something shakes Erik’s mind, threatens to push him out of the dream.  
  
And he thinks it might be because there’s something _familiar_ about the dark brown hair that he’s woven his fingers into. And the watch on the wrist of the hand that’s currently sliding up and down Erik’s chest, that’s rather familiar too.  
  
In sleep the connections come slower, not helped by the fact that this dream is rather distracting, but Erik gets there eventually.  
  
“ _Charles?_ ”  
  
The blue eye that looks up at him seals his suspicions.  
  
The dream evaporates as easily as it formed, and Erik sits bolt upright in bed, panting. As usual, the dream has had its effect: His cock hangs heavy and eager between his legs, and he’s desperate to bring himself off, find some relief.  
  
But that’s not happening tonight.  
  
Because now everything is immediately clear to Erik: Why those fantasies were so much more _vivid_ than usual, how they seemed to become more frequent with time, how they always seemed to be so satisfying.  
  
_CHARLES XAVIER. GET THE FUCK IN HERE._  
  
Erik bellows it in his mind, in the vague direction he thinks Charles’s room is in. And if Charles does not _hustle_ and get his telepathic ass over to Erik’s room in record time, Erik is going to go visit him, and that-  
  
There is a small, tentative knock on the door.  
  
Erik breathes out a long, aggravated growl.  
  
“Get in here,” He snaps.  
  
The door opens, and Charles peeks into the room, half his face and body hidden by the door. He has the decency to look sufficiently contrite and embarrassed. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t transmit anything to Erik telepathically, nothing.  
  
Erik glares at him for a few seconds. “This stops tonight.”  
  
Charles nods gently.  
  
Another moment of erratic breathing, and then Erik rolls his eyes and pulls the sheets off of him. “Get over here.”  
  
Charles’s eyes widen curiously.  
  
“You started this,” Erik growls, and points to his cock, which is currently on the verge of poking out of his underwear. “So you can finish it.”  
  
The apologetic expression melts away into one of pure _mischief_ and excitement as Charles makes his way over to the bed.  
  
Frankly, Erik is never going to underestimate him again.  
  
-End


End file.
